


carry me home, country road

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Caretaking, Dedue deserves a gentle epilogue 2k20, F/M, Happy Sex, Injury Recovery, Kissing, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dedue smooths a few loose strands of hair from Felix's forehead and checks his vital signs. His heart is beating abnormally slow for a man in the heat of battle, and his eyes are strangely delated."Poison…" he mutters to himself and hears Dimitri choke back a sob. It's not strange, either. From what Dedue has heard, this is the third Fraldarius to bleed out for him in his arms, if the poison doesn't kill him first, that is.“We need to get him to a safe place where we can remove the arrows as soon as possible,” he urges Dimitri gently.“I’m not dying, Boar. I’m... not that…. w-weak.” It’s been a very long time since he’s heard Felix use that particular ‘nickname’, and never with this much kindness in his tone.XXXKinkmeme fill: Dedue/Felix - injured/princess carry style. Felix is injured with poison weapons. Dedue takes care of him - not because Felix is important to his highness but because Felix is important to him. At long last, some words long overdue are spoken.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 16
Kudos: 61
Collections: Anonymous, FE3H Kink Meme





	carry me home, country road

**Author's Note:**

> Dedue/Felix - injured/princess carry style. Felix is injured with poison weapons. Dedue takes care of him - not because Felix is important to his highness but because Felix is important to him. At long last, some words long overdue are spoken. 
> 
> Prompt: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1608.html?thread=2388040
> 
> Mainly Dedue/Felix, minor Dedue&Dimitri and Dimileth because everyone deserves happiness.

The onslaught of arrows takes them by surprise. Five years after the war and Dedue's instincts have already dulled to the point where it takes him two seconds too long to realize the attack for what it is: an assassination attempt. He is four steps too far away from His Majesty to push him out of harm's way, and his heart breaks in two desperate halves before the first arrow can meet its mark. 

It never does, because although he might have neglected his training in favor of serving Dimitri in other ways more suited for peacetime, Felix has not. The King's Shield doesn't give more than a single cry when the second arrow penetrates his skin and scrapes his bone, but other than that manages to shield Dimitri silently. 

It's over before it truly begins. Ingrid kills the assassins within seconds of spotting them, and their bodies hit the ground around the same time Felix's body goes limp in Dimitri's arms. His liege is all but screaming, and Dedue checks him for injuries before anything else. There are no wounds. All the blood on him belongs to Felix, who is scowling even now while Dimitri is yelling right back at him for being so foolish. 

There is no healer in their midst - there shouldn’t be, they are on a diplomatic trip to western Hrym to ensure that the new local government is doing its job, and although Dimitri is sufficiently armed and guarded, they didn’t expect an ambush on the road, which means that he is the closest thing they have to a healer.

“Your Majesty, please, allow me to examine his wounds,” he pleads gently. Dimitri takes a deep breath and moves Felix until he is lying on his back, his head on his lap. He's still complaining, although his words are slowly slurring into each other. 

“It’s nothing,” Felix says petulantly. “I’ve suffered far worse during the war.”

“Don’t speak unless you need to,” Dedue shushes him, and looks over his wounds. At first glance, it seems Felix isn’t bluffing. Four arrows penetrated his skin, and only one of them has truly hit him a place that can potentially cause serious damage. He has seen Felix run through an Adrestian battalion with a sword lodged in his shoulder. By all accounts, he has suffered worse. 

Dedue smooths a few loose strands of hair from Felix's forehead and checks his vital signs. His heart is beating abnormally slow for a man in the heat of battle, and his eyes are strangely delated. 

"Poison…," he mutters to himself and hears Dimitri choke back a sob. It's not strange, either. This is the third Fraldarius to bleed out for him in his arms, if the poison doesn't kill him first, that is. 

“We need to get him to a safe place where we can remove the arrows as soon as possible,” he urges Dimitri gently.

“I’m not dying, Boar. I’m... not that…. w-weak.” It’s been a very long time since he’s heard Felix use that particular ‘nickname’, and never with this much kindness in his tone. 

Dimitri closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again the frightened child is gone and the King has taken charge again. “There is a small hamlet nearby if I’m not mistaken. With some luck, there will be a healer there.”

“I’ll fly him,” Ingrid offers from atop of her steed. 

Dedue takes one look at the way her hands tremble, the carefully suppressed fear in her eyes, and remembers that she too has lost someone she loved in a situation like this. He shakes his head. “No. If we move him wrong, the arrowheads might break off or hit a vital organ, and he will die. I will carry him.”

Dimitri immediately starts lifting Felix up like he weighs nothing. “No, I will--”

“Let him.” Surprisingly, it is Felix who cuts him off, his voice strange and uneven, which is not a good sign at all. “There might still… be more… assassins.”

“He’s right,” Ingrid agrees with a heavy voice, and Dedue nods along. 

Outnumbered three to one, Dimitri stands no chance and folds to their will. “Let’s not argue then and make haste.”

Dedue nods and lifts Felix slowly, gently. There is no time to preserve his pride, and so Dedue cradles Felix carefully against his chest, supporting his legs and his back in front of his body, and starts walking at a fast pace. 

No wonder Dimitri lifted him like a feather: Felix weighs little to nothing, even to one not blessed with Blaiddyd strength. He seems so small now that he is no longer standing ramrod straight, making himself be heard at every turn of the way. They’ve been working together almost non-stop the past few years but it is only in this moment - after knowing him for almost fifteen years! - that he can see the vulnerability behind the proud mask that Dimitri keeps telling him about.

Dedue walks a little faster and cradles Felix a little closer to his chest. He is small but surprisingly warm. 

“Hold on a little bit longer,” Dedue mutters to Felix.

“Don’t… tell me… what to… do,” Felix replies breathlessly, like he is the one doing the carrying. He’s sweating more with every second, and his eyes are closed. (Were his lashes always this long?) 

Felix goes limp in his arms before they find the hamlet twenty minutes later, and Dedue prays to every god and goddess that Felix’s legendary stubbornness can buy them enough time. 

XXX

The hamlet is in a terrible shape. It is sparsely populated by less than twenty families, but among them they find a retired monk more than happy to put his skills to good use. He’s not on par with Mercedes by a long shot, but together the two of them carefully extract one poisoned arrowhead after the other before closing the wounds to the best of their ability.

The former monk casts _Restore_ twice, but Felix’s fever doesn’t break, only lessens. The Antitoxin doesn’t do more than buy them a few more hours either, and Felix’s heartbeat slows down until it is almost nothing but a murmur. 

“A complicated poison, then,” the man confides in him, and his deep scowl says more than his words about Felix’s chances. “Please, watch him while I try to analyze what remains of the poison on the tips of the arrows. Perhaps we can concoct a cure or at least something that will slow down the effects long enough to find one.”

Dedue nods, but waits until the monk has left them alone before he washes the blood from his hands. 

Carefully he presses a wet rag against Felix’s forehead. He has always been pale, but he looks deathly so now, and yet somehow younger for it. He has heard of the powers a Major Crest grant, particularly the effects on one's lifespan, but only now Felix is finally no longer scowling, he can actually see it for himself. 

He is not unscarred - nobody who has seen as much battle as either of them has could be - but his scars are silver lines that blend into his skin in a way that isn’t unbecoming. Perhaps even handsome. Gently, he presses the wet rag against the side of Felix’s neck, hoping to relieve some of the heat for him. Felix lets out a breathless moan that catches Dedue entirely off guard. 

“Rest easy,” he whispers and gives in to the temptation to carefully take Felix’s hair out of its bun. It’s far longer than he expected it to be, but surprisingly well maintained. 

Feeling powerless and eager to do something with his hands while he waits, Dedue gives in to temptation and gingerly parts Felix’s hair into three even sections before braiding it in a simple style. His hair is nothing like his sister’s - it’s thinner, but more soft - but it still brings tears to his eyes. He hasn't braided anyone hair since she died, and he never realized he missed it. 

He is a man of Duscur, and he will not cry. But his family is always with him, watching over him like a guardian. That night, he does the same for Felix, because he too has become someone he cares about, although Dedue never realized the extent until this moment. 

XXX

It is not the former monk, but Ingrid who finds a cure. Upon hearing the specifics of the poison, she rushes to the nearest church and raids their library until she finds exactly what she is looking for. 

His Highness hugs her with tears in his eyes when she returns with the good news, and immediately takes charge of obtaining the necessary ingredients with her, which leaves Dedue with Felix. 

He doesn’t mind, not at all. The moon is bright tonight, illuminating Felix’s pale physique as he slowly succumbs to the poison, which should have killed him nearly instantly. 

“The power of a Major Crest,” the Monk had muttered under his breath when they realized exactly what they were dealing with. By sheer luck, Felix was the best person to take those arrows for Dimitri, but Dedue knows that he wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same for Ingrid, or maybe even him.

Dedue counts Felix’s heartbeats out loud, one by one, for hours and hours. Becomes intimately acquainted with his labored breaths until he can recognize even the slightest change. He catalogs every breathless whimper that escapes those chapped lips. 

His entire family was slaughtered before his eyes. He is not yet ready to lose another member anytime soon.

XXX

It takes five more hours to concoct the cure, and another ten before Felix visibly starts recovering. By the time he wakes up, it’s been almost three days since he lost conscience.

Dimitri is finally asleep, sprawled ungracefully all over the chair the Monk insisted he use once he realized he was hosting the King of Fodlan in his humble abode. Ingrid has returned to Fhirdiad to report and gather more troops. Before she left, she surprised him by asking him to look out not only for His Majesty - for which he arguably needs no encouragement - but also Felix.

“I saw how you looked at him,” she said, an odd look in her eyes.

It had taken effort not to look away from her questioning gaze, but there was no need to deny her words either, even if Dedue didn’t know exactly why he was looking at Felix like that. What he does know that he has no right to whatever it is. 

“My apologies,” he uttered, but nothing more.

“No need,” Ingrid had said, still a little awkward around him after all these years of serving together as knights sworn to His Majesty. “You should speak with him about it once he recovers. But for now, see that he rests. He is a difficult patient.”

She had not been exaggerating in the slightest. As soon as Felix wakes up, he tries to stand up, like a fool. 

“Please, refrain from upsetting your wounds,” Dedue shushes, careful not to wake up His Majesty. “It took days to completely purge the poison from your body. Give yourself time to recover, or the process will only take longer.”

Felix looks at him with wide, glassy eyes. "Di---m... tri?

Dedue steps aside and allows the light of his candle to shine over his King, who is snoring ungracefully but peacefully. Felix visibly relaxes once he sees him.

“How… long…?” He croaks out.

“It has been three days since you were wounded,” Dedue informs him, and then carefully drags a wet rag against his skin, cleaning him of any residue sweat. Felix closes his eyes immediately, and the involuntarily, delightful noise that rips from his lips is one that haunts Dedue for the rest of their stay in the hamlet. 

That night, he dreams of Duscur, but there are no flowers or songs, only a small cabin with inside a small bed. The thin white sheets are rough, but despite the chilly autumn wind, he isn't cold. A warm, lithe body keeps him warm all night long. 

Dedue wakes up that morning feeling utterly breathless.

XXX

“You don’t need to spoon-feed me,” Felix says with a humiliated blush on his face when Dedue brings him his dinner, but doesn’t tell him to leave like he did with His Majesty yesterday.

It’s the second day after his first awakening, and although it takes him far more effort than he let’s show, Felix can sit up without support again.

“You are too thin,” Dedue admonishes. He has helped the Monk change his bandages every day, and counted far too many ribs. 

Felix looks away. “I’m not a brute like you, you mean.”

“Our sizes taken into account, you had little body mass to begin with, and have lost a significant amount the past days,” Dedue explains carefully, and dips the spoon into the broth. He made it himself, so he knows it’s neither too hot nor too cold. “If you wish to recover, eat well.”

He holds up the spoon in front of Felix’s lips.

“I can do it myself,” Felix says, but his shoulders are shaking from the effort of sitting up without support.

“I know,” Dedue says, but doesn’t hand him the spoon. “Please,” he adds after a while.

The blush on Felix’s face doubles and his frown deepens, but slowly he opens his lips and allows Dedue to feed him, spoon by spoon.

“This is my mother’s recipe,” Dedue says halfway through, even though he doesn’t know why. Nobody but Ashe knows it. He thinks of the house on the hill, and suddenly the need to talk about Duscur is so strong that the words all but leap from his lips. “It has been years since I made it, but whenever I got sick, this restored me back to health faster than anything.”

Felix takes the next spoonful a bit more eagerly, and Dedue tries and fails not to stare at the way he licks his lips after every sip.

XXX

The town is reluctant to allow their King and one of his most decorated knights to aid them in chores until they see Dimitri lift two tree trunks at once without breaking a sweat. 

“Are you happy, Dedue?” He asks while they steadily cut the wood into logs. It is a menial task, but exercise is good for Dimitri’s mental health, especially in a time of distress.

Dedue looks at him oddly and puts the axe down before he answers. “Why the question, my Liege?”

“I like to think I can read you better than anyone else,” Dimitri explains, looking a little sheepish. “And recently, you’ve been smiling a lot more.”

“Duke Fraldarius’ swift recovery raises my spirits.”

“Is that all?” Dimitri prods, a small smile teasing the edges of his lips. “Byleth remarked on it in one of her letters too, that you seemed to enjoy discussing with Felix. Her words, not mine. To me, those ‘discussions’ look more like verbal fights.”

Considering Dimitri’s own tumultuous history with Felix, it is surprising he doesn’t see the competitive yet positive nature of his and Felix conversations. “She is correct,” Dedue says, his voice neutral. Then, after a pregnant pause, adds on a lighter tone: “I did not know you still conversed so regularly through letters, that you found time to discuss my ‘conversations’ with Duke Fraldarius.”

The blush on Dimitri’s cheeks has nothing to do with the heat or the exercise, but it brings a smile to Dedue’s lips all the same. “I write to her almost every day, and she to me,” Dimitri confesses in a conspiratorial tone. “And I have been thinking….,” he trails off. Then, his hand goes to his left pocket, and he idly traces something inside it that Dedue cannot see. 

Dedue chuckles. “Dimitri, my friend,” he says kindly, and puts his hand on his shoulder. "Do not fear happiness or love. You are a good man, and you have suffered enough. Do not inflict any unnecessary pain on yourself, or her for that matter.”

Dimitri sputters something out after that that makes no sense, and Dedue pats his shoulder twice in a show of support. What was previously a pink blush grows into a full-fledged sunburn by the time Dimitri finds his words, but to Dedue’s delight, he is smiling too. “You saw right through me, didn’t you?” 

Dedue nods slowly, and Dimitri barks a somewhat awkward laugh. 

“Very well, next time I see her, I will be truthful with her,” he promises, and smiles like the sun itself before putting a hand on Dedue’s shoulder too, and looking him sincerely in the eye. “And you? Will you do the same?”

Years worth of self-loathing well up within him like a fountain. Unlike Dimitri, he is a man of Duscur, and the one he dreams about at night has a reputation to uphold.

But… what is the point of fighting and bleeding for change, if you do not get to enjoy it yourself? Duscur as he remembers it is gone, but a new Duscur is within his grasp. He thinks of flowers, of a little house a luscious green hill. A young man, sitting at his table, eating his soup. And for the first time, Dedue realizes that maybe he doesn’t have to rebuild it alone.

It is a pipe dream, but it gives him hope nonetheless.

“I will consider it,” he promises Dimitri, as well as himself. That night he dreams in a thousand colors. 

XXX

“I apologize,” Felix grits out between his teeth after Dedue has fed him soup for the fourth day in a row. 

He waited to speak until Dedue had finished feeding him and was turned with his back to him to clean the dishes. But when Dedue turns around again with a now clean bowl of broth, there is no mistaking the slight coloring on Felix’s cheeks. 

“For what?” Dedue asks, confused. “You were wounded in your service for His Majesty. Caring for you has been a privilege.”

Felix shakes his head but refuses to look at him still. “No, not because of that. Because of what I said, earlier.” He makes a motion with his hand in the air that does not clear up anything about this conversation.

“I do not follow.”

“When we were students. I called you… dog. And worse,” Felix says slowly, a tinge of anger lacing his words, but not directed at Dedue, but rather at himself. “I was foolish. Blindsided. Angry.” He scoffs, and finally meets Dedue’s eyes. “That’s no excuse, though, and an apology will not set right the sins my people have committed against yours. But words are all I have, and they are long overdue.”

Dedue slowly puts down the bowl. “It was not you who raised the blade or commanded the armies,” he says calmly, each word carefully chosen.

Felix’s frown deepens. “But I did call you--” he cuts himself off, shakes his head and balls his fists into the sheets. “Nevermind, just… you don’t have to forgive me, or anything. It’s not about that. Just figured I--”

Dedue cuts him off. “Apology accepted.” 

Felix nearly falls back into the mattress. “Just like that?” He says skeptically, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Dedue sits down next to him and gently guides him into a lying position. “There are some things that are so unforgivable that they make other things easily forgivable,” he explains. Truly, he has been called far worse, and it had been a long time ago. What he called His Majesty, on the other hand… but that is in the past too. “I chose to look to the future, not the past. Don’t get me wrong, I will never forgive those who have taken my family's lives.” A familiar surge of anger, powerless and painful, wells up in his chest. It is an old pain, one that has never quite left him, but one that he has made peace with. It fades just as quickly back into the background as it came. “But I have gained a new family too, and for their sake, I wish to live.”

Felix stares at him for a long time, searching his eyes for the truth in his words. Then, when he has finally been satisfied, he grumbles: “He should be far more grateful for your loyalty.”

“I was not speaking about His Highness.”

Felix opens his mouth to ask who he is talking about, but before he can, Dedue reaches forward and wipes a tiny spot of broth from his chin without thinking. Caretaking comes naturally to him, but normally when he takes care of the children in Mercedes’ orphanage (or Dimitri, during his worst episodes), he doesn’t feel this spark when he touches their skin.

One look at Felix’s bewildered expression tells him he felt the same thing and was just as surprised by it.

“ _Me?”_ Felix shrieks out, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you out of your _mind_?”

 _Perhaps,_ Dedue thinks and brushes his thumb over Felix’s lips once again. The spark returns, only more intensely this time. Felix shrudders and his lips part slightly. “We have worked together for years, and although we rarely agree, I have enjoyed our debates. You are a very passionate man.” There is a certain joy in arguing with someone who you know has the best for the Kingdom in mind, but has a completely different view on how to achieve it. “Is it really so strange to believe that you are important to me because of who you are, and not because of the loyalty I harbor towards His Majesty?”

Felix turns a little bit redder, and then with more force than Dedue would advise a man as heavily wounded as him, shrugs Dedue’s hand away from his lips.

Before Dedue can apologize for the transgression, Felix clumsily launches himself into his arms. When he forcefully presses their lips together the same spark returns, only this time it’s hotter, stronger, and enough to move a mountain, let alone a man. Dedue doesn’t think, and instead he draws Felix closer into his lap, closer to his chest and his rapidly-beating heart. 

He winds his hands into Felix’s hair and without thinking starts combing out the knots. Felix hangs onto his shoulders like it is the only thing that keeps him upright, which very well might be the truth. And all the while, they keep kissing, breathless and insistent. 

When they finally part, Felix sags against his chest and buries his face into his shoulder. 

“I have wanted to do that for a long time,” he confesses to Dedue’s surprise. 

Dedue swallows deeply and presses a hesitant kiss against his head. “Why didn’t you?”

“I thought you loved Dimitri,” he confesses, sounding a little forlorn. “He has lost so much and I’ve already hurt him in so many ways. I won’t… won’t cause him more grief than I already have.”

Dedue does not speak. It is true that he harbors affections for Dimitri, but as a paragon of all that is just and right in this world, as a dear friend and a worthy king. Never as a lover. _Besides_ , he thinks to himself, the image of his former professor flashing through his mind, _his king has his eyes elsewhere._

But he doesn’t tell the man in his arms that. Instead, he presses a gentle kiss against his brow. “You should use your words more often, or your regrets will one day swallow you whole,” he whispers, trying to find the right words himself. Articulating how he feels isn't his strong point either. “But I am… _glad_ , to learn of your… _desires_ , even if they surprise me.”

Felix snort is muffled by the fabric of Dedue’s shirt. “Don’t pity me.”

“I am not pitying you,” Dedue says, and proves his words with another kiss against Felix’s forehead.

Felix raises his chin defiantly and looks at him with a disbelieving look on his face. He looks angry, but when Dedue stares into his bright eyes a moment longer, he sees the vulnerability that lies underneath that hard veneer. 

Gently, oh so gently, he tips Felix’s head up, and kisses him again, and like a starving man, Felix pries his lips open and devours him. Their bodies pressed close together, chest to chest. Dedue is intoxicated by the feeling of their lips clashing over and over again. Neither of them are particularly good at it, but Felix has always been an eager student when he had a mind to learn, and Dedue is nothing if not a patient man. When they break apart, Felix’s hands find their way to his neck, clawing at his shoulders, desperate to pull him down again for another kiss, or perhaps even more.

 _He is beautiful like this,_ Dedue thinks breathlessly, and something south agrees whole-heartedly. It is dangerous because he wants nothing more than take everything Felix is offering, and press him into the mattress until he makes every sound Dedue has dreamed about.

But he is a better man than that, so Dedue shakes his head. “We should stop now, while we still can.” Gently - regretfully - he lifts Felix from his lap and puts him back into his bed. He goes down fighting, but it isn’t a fair fight. The lines of exhaustion are visible on his gaunt skin, clear as day. “I cannot give you what you seek now. You’re still recovering from a nearly lethal injury.”

“Is that the only reason?” Felix challenges him, sounding only half as confident as he probably wants to be.

Dedue smiles, and eagerly intertwines their hands. “Once you have recovered and you still feel the same way, we will talk about this at length.”

“Just talk?” 

“Words are important,” Dedue says sagely. Felix rolls his eyes in a way that is somewhere between painfully childish and terribly adorable. Dedue can’t help himself. He bows down, traces the contours of his ear with his lips before whispering seductively: “But there are some things you can only express with your body.”

Felix swallows visibly and then nods, a little bit too eager. Dedue pulls back as if nothing happened, and sits back on his chair, even if his body demands he do the exact opposite. They stay there in comfortable silence until Felix is well asleep and His Highness all but orders him to bed himself. 

That night, he dreams of Duscur. Of flowers and of a tiny house on a hill, the smell of his mother’s soup coming from the kitchen. In the garden, a singular graceful figure dances through sword forms in between the flowerbeds, his sword reflecting the light of the gentle autumn sun. Dedue reaches out, and he can almost grasp the vision. it's just out of reach, but not for long. 

In his dream, Dedue walks forward until he is close enough to kiss Felix. _He tastes just as sweet in my dreams as he does in reality,_ he thinks, and Dedue can’t wait to make his dream come true. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if OP wanted smut too, so I'll add the explicit stuff in a separate chapter later. I wanted to write these two more gently, because from what I've gathered, they're often paired up in a less than loving way. And Dedue deserves all the love, don't you agree? Being gentle doesn't come easy for Felix, but he cares, even if he sucks at showing it.
> 
> (As does the rest, really, save these poor kids. they have suffered enough.)
> 
> Anyway, this was fun to write, since these are two pairings I don't often put together. Dimileth was added on request of a good friend of mine, so sorry OP for deviating from the prompt a little! I hope you still enjoyed it. Look forward to part two. Will Dimitri finally man up and propose to the archbishop? Will Dedue persuade Felix to take a holiday with him in a tiny cottage in Duscur? Will Ingrid get the raise she deserves? Stay tuned.


End file.
